Cutter and Voodoo
by Doctor-Honesty
Summary: two mad max war boy OC's have a unique time together. PWP
1. Chapter 1

Voodoo's heart thudded in his cheat as he swiftly tried to back pedal away from the heavy chan that slammed into the floor less than a foot ahead of him. He barely had a chance to think /what the fuck?!/ before unfamiliar hands grabbed around his outstretched arms and he found himself painfully face first in the wall of the hanger. A bitter flavour filled his mouth, choking him- his teeth had slammed together at the impact, cutting into the cigar that had been hanging from his lips and coating his mouth in thhe dark, dusty flakes of tobacco that had filled it.

His lungs ached and he coughed, spitting harshly as a voice spoke harshly in his ear "you're going to like this." A shiver ran through his body at the feeling of strong, hard hips grinding against him from behind, and Voodoo couldnt help but close his eyes and gasp out loud at the feeling of blunt teeth digging deeply into the crux between his neck and shoulder. He recognized the voice- Cutter, that war boy that had always seemed to be around recently. Who would have thought he'd have this sort of thing planned.

Unwilling to give up without a struggle, Voodoo gracelessly spat a glob of spit and tobacco leaves out onto the floor in front of him and shoved backwards with all his strength, grinning and grimacing as he felt Cutters feet stutter to keep their placement and his teeth digging in harsher. The feeling on his neck went straight to his cock, and he felt a little disgusted with himself. Was he really such an easy fucking catch?

"Would it have killed you to buy me dinner first?" he growled, referencing the old world saying with a little bit of self deprecating sarcasm. He flexed his arms against the grip that Cutter had on him, bucking his hips backward again to see if he could further set the man off balance. It seemed the other war boy had come prepared for a fight though, because Voodoo felt his efforts rewarded with a strong hand gripping the back of his skull and slamming his forehead into the wall with solid precision.

White lights and dark pain flooded his head and he groaned, knees weakening. Cutter was holding him up now, one arm pinning his wrists and the other around his waist. "I said you'd like it. Trust me, or you wont." The voice sounded so calm, it threw Voodoo off balance. He barely heard the words with his brain whirling from the throbbing sensation in his temple like a car spinning out on the sand after getting hit with an explosive lance. On instinct he threw his head back as quickly as he could, feeling the back of his skull connect soundly against the other mans cheek bone with a solid smack.

Cutter swore loudly and let go of Voodoos arms, but before he could use the new freedom to his advantage he felt a hand grip him by the back of his tooth'd bandana around his neck and pull harshly, dragging him backwards and away from the wall at a grueling pace. His booted feet skidded in the dirt as he tried to regain his footing and his throat burned from the pull that was more than likely to leave rope-burn. Stars skidded across his vision and his hands went to his throat.

"Enough!" Cutter snarled harshly, sounding in that moment more rough and animalistic than Voodoo had ever heard him before. The hand dropped from his neck and his knees slammed against the floor. The lack of oxygen and the pain in his head had sent him toppling forward, and he barely caught himself with his hands- grateful for the black leather half gloves he had on, or the rough flooring would have certainly removed a solid layer of skin from the impact.

Pain like razors shot up his wrists and he gasped, desperately trying to regain the breath that he had lost in the last few minutes. Cutter was nowhere to be felt. After a moment of panting, Voodoo looked up. The man was crouched in front of him, redness swelling his right cheek in the beginning of what was likely to be a nasty bruise. He had a measuring, contemplative look on his face. Voodoo's eyes narrowed,

"I ain't likin' it so far, Cut." he harshed, hawking more brown spittle onto the floor beneath him. Cutter sighed long sufferingly and stared up at the ceiling, like Joe himself could hear his prayers and complaints.

"You will." He said matter-of-factly, "I mean it." He pulled a switch knife from his thigh pocket and unfolded it, staring down at it intently. "Just stop fucking it up, Vu."

Voodoo eyed the knife apprehensively, staying in his hands and knees position on the floor as Cutter rose to standing position with a sigh, moving behind him. He heard a thud as the other man flopped down on the floor behind him casually and glanced over his shoulder, wondering if he could chance leaping up and making a run for it. The idea was dashed when he felt a blade at his neck, right below his Adams apple and just above the bandana. It was close enough that he wondered for a second if he swallowed to strongly he might paint his chest with his own blood.

Cutter clucked his tongue chidingly and whistled like he was calling a pup, "back, back, back, come on Vu, tut tut. Just like that, yes. Good." Voodoo edged away from the knife as it pressed closer and closer to his wind pipe, ending up in a kneeling position with his hands up, gripping desperately at the arm that held death against his throat.

He knew when he was beat. Usually he could tell if someone was just fucking around or if they really had an intent to kill. At this point, Voodoo wasn't really sure. The psycho behind him hummed appreciatively and he shuddered. Sick, he knew, but the sound and the life-or-death situation had him throbbing in his pants, and he could feel his body start to sweat, heart hammering in his ears. /Im so fucking fucked/ he thought, closing his eyes in defeat. /in so many fucking ways. V8 damn it all/

He was prepared for a rough fuck. He was expecting it. Boys rarely went after him this way, but when they succeeded he was always prepared for a rough barebacking that would leave him walking funny for a few days afterward. It was sick, but he usually came from the rough treatment anyways. He shrugged mentally to himself. At least he knew who he was.

Cutter didnt seem to fit the profile though. His breath was a little harsh from the scuffle, but he hardly seemed out of control. Voodoo felt the mans free hand go to the belts around his waist and efficiently flick them open until he could slide the dark, heavy fabric down his thighs. Fully exposed, Voodoo felt the breeze of the open air shaft of the hanger in places he usually didn't leave hanging and exposed in public places. Apparently this didnt bother Cutter much at all.

A hand found his throbbing length and squeezed tightly, Voodoo groaned and fought hard to not thrust forward, nervous that Cutter had forgotten the blade against his throat and might accidentally end him right there. The thought was a little funny.

It seemed a friendly hand job wasn't going to be the start of the evening. A little shuffle behind him and the hand that had left his cock felt along the cleft of his ass, slick with petrol jel. /well, what a fuckin gentleman/ Voodoo thought, and he considered saying as much, but as a finger slipped slowly past his outer ring and inside of him he could do little more than let out a shuddering breath and try to not slice his own throat.

The finger spun slightly from side to side as it made its way into his body, probing around with efficiency. A few shallow thrusts had Voodoo bending his hips backward and spreading his legs more, mouth hanging open ever so slightly and breath hitched. He felt a second finger, and Cutters breath hot and even just under his ear. It was then he realized that every time he twitched or moved involuntarily, the knife moved immediately out of harms way, keep in an even, solid pressure without breaking the skin. /this guys not bad.../

The fingers left and he shuddered, pre cum pooling at the tip of his cock and balls contracted tight to his body. It had been too fucking long. A blunt, hard feeling pressed into him and he braced himself, breathing out long and slow as a familiar hard burn settled in his gut. Cutter pressed diligently forward until he was hilt deep and then stalled. A tongue slid from the bottom of Voodoos ear lobe up to the tip. It was hot, moist, and left goose bumps all over his body.

"Here we go." Cutter whispered, and for a moment Voodoo assumed this meant he was about to get fucked into the dirt floor. He stuttered and squawked slightly when the knife was tossed easily aside and he was pulled backwards and off balance, landing in the war boys lap with his legs sprawled out in front of him. The motion send Cutters cock deeper than hilt deep and electricity shot through Voodoos spine at the depth and fullness. /fuck/

"Fuck!" Oh hey, that one actually made it out loud.

"Shh." He heard. / shush yourself you fuckin-/ his train of thought stalled when a hand appeared in front of him. Cutter was holding... what was that? some sort of metal rod? it was easily 10 inches long but thin, only around a centimeter in diameter. He felt his erection start to flag and Cutter huffed behind him again, dropping the rod and gripping at Voodoos hips, rocking into him roughly. He threw his head back, this time resting on Cutters shoulder and not aiming to break his cheekbones. His fingers gripped tightly on the other war boys knees and he lost himself in the sensation for a few moments. Too soon, the hard shaft slamming his prostate slowed and petered to a stop. He wondered if you could actually see his heartbeat through his chest, it sounded so loud.

He was left to brace himself, balanced on Cutters cock and rocking into it himself while the man did... something. He could smell more petrol jelly and he shivered at the cold sensation when a slicked hand began to stroke his shaft agonizingly slowly.

"This is where you stay put or I hunt you down and throw you off the edge of the Citadels holding bay. Got it?" Voodoo's fuzzy brain tried to grapple with the sentence. He couldn't fathom what-

A cold, hard sensation appeared at the tip of his cock and he jolted, fumbling in the awkward rhythm he had tried to set against Cutters body. His head snapped forward to see the long metal rod in Cutters right and, his left hand gripping Voodoo's dribbling length hard at the base.

Panic slammed through him but before he could pick up the struggle again teeth nipped so hard at his ear lobe he felt the edge of it split and start to bleed. Breath coming out in harsh, panicked gasps he listened as Cutter said "Dont make me make you fuckin' lopsided Vu. Trust. Me."

He fought every instinct clawing through his body to stay still and cutter slowly started to thread the long, thin metal shaft into his urethra. He'd never experienced penetration this way. The burning sensation that thrilled through his most delicate area was utterly unlike what he felt when being taken from behind. A sense of wrongness coiled in his gut even as his legs involuntarily spread themselves a little wider and his balls jumped slightly. This wasnt... something... people did.

Cutter moved slowly, mimicking the motions he had made with his finger when he had prepped Voodoo from behind before. Slow, gentle twisting leading into slightly more depth. Millimeter by millimeter Voodoo watched as the long rod slowly disappeared inside of him. He clenched hard against Cutters cock and felt the other war boys breath hitch slightly in his ear. A little bit of satisfaction fluttered through him at that.

buried to his boddies hilt inside of him, Voodoo's eyes stared transfixed. It was like... the opposite of an orgasm. Instead of feeling his body sending out waves of pleasure, pleasure was being forced into him in an unbelievable way. He felt... full, and fully aware that something was inside of him that was never meant to go there. His hips twitched forward and back, fucking himself slowly onto Cutters cock as the Boy's skilled hand thrust the rod in and out of him at a measured pace.

He could barely handle it. Slowly Cutter pressed the rod down impossibly further, and his whole body melted into the sensation. It... it had hit his prostate- /from the other side/. He gasped loudly and moaned at the double hit of being fucked from the back and the front simultaneously.

Cutter hummed in a pleased note. Voodoo's ear throbbed but he couldnt tell what was blood and what was sweat at this point. A pace was set that sent his mind straight out of his body- every thrust of the hips was met with a twist of the wrist. He constantly felt like he was on the edge of orgasm but the rod in his cock was fully blocking any fluid from passing through. It settled in his gut like a grenade trying to go off in a room with no air, and his fingers scraped so deeply into Cutters knees that he was sure to have scars.

The world fell away, but the more control he lost the less even Cutters motions seemed to be. Where he was practically mechanical before, he started to falter in his pacing, wrist slowing down and hips speeding up. Through his haze of pain and pleasure and pressure and oh, everything, Voodoo could hear Cutters breath become ragged.

Just when he was certain he couldnt take any more- and a few moments after that, even, Cutter pulled the rod from Voodoos cock and tossed it aside. The sick, slick motion toppled him over the edge and he came hard into empty air, his entire body shuddering and clenching. Cutter threw his body forward and he barely caught himself on limp, shaking arms. He felt hands dig bruises into his hips and the room resounded lewdly with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh as Cutter slammed into him with animalistic force. In the aftershocks of his own orgasm, Voodoo could hardly stand the over stimulation and grit his teeth together harshly, fisting the ground with his hands.

A wet forehead pressed between his shoulder blades and Cutter came with a hitched gasp, hilt deep inside of him. They stayed like that for several moments, both seeming to be waiting for the world to stop tumbling out of order. Voodoo started to feel his injuries coming on to him slowly and he sighed into the ground.

"I need a fuckin' smoke." he muttered, and to his astonishment he heard Cutter chuckle companiably behind him. The boy slipped out of his body and gently pushed Voodoo, toppling the man bonelessly on to his side where he looked up at the person who had just given him the fuckin' ride of his life. Cutters face was split in an uncharacteristic grin, teeth and all. He flopped down on the ground beside Voodoo and tucked his hands behind his head, looking over at him pleasedly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Miscalculated. When I bribed that pup to steal one out of your mouth an hour ago I didnt know you had another one on you. Should have pick pocketed your pants first. My mistake." He shrugged and sighed contentedly, closing his eyes like he was basking in a field of fuckin' daisies. Voodoo stared at him incredulously.

"You... what?" He couldnt comprehend what Cutter had just said.

"Yeah. But if Im right, that half smoked one should be sittin' on your bunk right about now, under your pillow. So its not a total loss."

Voodoo stared.

"You're fucking insane, arent you."

Cutter laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

"So... what do you want? tattoo, piercing, mod?" Voodoo asked nervously, trying to fill the silence. He fidgeted a bit, crossing and uncrossing his arms, refusing to meet the eyes of the man standing in front of him. His eyes flickered down to the large leather satchel bag that Cutter was holding, then away again.

"You're payment... last time, was alright. I mean, for something small." He inhaled deeply on his cigar and attempted to hide in the smoke as he exhaled, and found that NOT meeting Cutters eyes meant that he was staring instead at the suggestive piston scarifications that disappeared into his low riding pants. Fuck. "If you wanted something better, I, uh, I might need a little convincing." /Im not even convincing myself, holy V8, I am so fucked/ trying to seem casual, he straightened up and cracked his neck from side to side.

Silence again. Cutter looked... amused? his pale blue eyes were glinting.

"I dont want anything." The tall man said. " Skank did these," he pointed at ... his groin? fuck, no, the pistons, of course. He must have stared a little too intently too, because Cutter chuckled and Voodoo cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at the war boy before him. "Im not here to pay you." he insisted, " Im just here for you."

Something about that sentence rattled him, and though he'd been off his game before, he now felt completely thrown. "Then...?" then what?

Voodoo repressed the urge to jump when he heard the leather satchel hit the ground with a solid thump. He thought back to how less than an hour ago he'd been happily piercing some poor smeg and looking forward to taking a break with his new cigar. Then, Cutter had grabbed him by the arm, told his client not to wait up, and told him to follow. He was cure he'd protested- but then again, maybe not. Cutter hadnt been around lately, and frankly he'd been a little thrilled to see him. They'd ended up in here- and he wasnt too sure where here was. It must have been a natural part of the Citadels cave system at one point, and someone had hollowed it out a bit. Maybe a supply room in the making. He'd never seen it before, but it seemed out of the way. That really only meant one thing, he was certain of it.

"Then nothing." Cutter broke him from his reverie, " Just don't fight me this time. Im not here to get my nose broken either." Voodoo huffed out a short laugh that had less humor to it than he intended and shoved his fidgeting hands into his pants pockets.

"Im here aint I? I followed yeh. So. Yeah."

"Then come here and stay still. Oh, and trust me, okay?"

Voodoo shrugged and shuffled into the middle of the room. When Cutter reached out and gently took the cigar from his mouth, he closed his eyes. He had no idea what was about to happen, but something told him he didn't want to know in advance or he might chicken out and run. He knew what he wanted, but he couldn't put it into words. The feeling lay heavily in his gut, roiling like a living creature inside of him. Maybe it didn't have a word. Lust didn't quite cut it. Fear was there too, but a type of fear you craved, like when you're on a raid and you find yourself playing chicken against a Buzzard with both of you going miles over any old world speed limit, hurtling towards death with a scream in your throat.

He twitched a little, shaken back into reality /again/ as he felt long, deft fingers slowly peeling away at his outfit. The situation had such an otherworldly feel to it he was having a hard time staying in the present. Cutter took his goggles, the bandana on his head. He gritted his teeth and forced himself not to snatch it back immediately- Cutter wouldn't care about the scrap of cloth, he tried to think. This was too important to lose his temper over. His hands balled into fists in his pockets.

The toothed scarf around his neck made a soft sound as it hit the ground and he was uncomfortably reminded of bath days. He fucking hated the water, and those were the only days in the year that he could ever be found without his clothes on. The hands at his belts distracted him a little. This was new. No one ever dared try to disrobe him, not usually, and not without consequences. It spoke to how much he was craving... whatever this was... that he didnt move. Hands gently unlaced his boots and pulled them off, and within a few minutes he was completely exposed.

It felt... wrong. He felt undefended. All of his tools and possessions were laying somewhere at his feet. He squeezed his eyes even tighter against the world, suddenly self conscious in a way he wasnt used to being. Cutters hands weren't anywhere. Was this all a joke? would he open his eyes and find all of his shit gone, and Cutter gone too? that fucker would be dead by the end of the day if that-

"Im still here." The calm voice must have read his thoughts. Or, more likely, seen the dawning panic on his face. He opened his eyes slightly and Cutter was standing two feet from him. Fully clothed. Looking at Voodoo with the same expression he always had- completely neutral and unreadable. "And I said trust me."

"Fucking... get on with it, then." he resisted the urge to cover himself. Despite the myriad of feelings rushing through him, something in Cutters manner went straight through him and he felt his cock start to twitch and thicken between his legs. It was fucked up. But, it was what it was.

Cutter pulled a long length of rope from his bag and stood behind Voodoo, neatly and efficiently getting him to hold his elbows with his hands, and then tying him in place. His arms completely immobilized. The tight sensation of the rope and the soft sounds of knots being tied sent a shiver through his and gooseflesh pimpled along his shoulders. He wondered if Cutter was doing this to make sure he wouldn't flee, but something in him told him this wasn't true. Told him Cutter had looked into his eyes and seen the devil within. Not only that, he was certain he spoke its language, too.

" I was goin' to blindfold you, but I thought... well. Doesn' matter. " Cutter murmured as he put pressure on Voodoo's shoulders and pressed on the back of his knees with his foot. The artist took the hint and went down, his body following before his mind could even connect. He stared at the ceiling as Cutter went back to the bag, then closed his eyes again. Focused on his breathing and the tension gathering in the organ between his legs. Cutter was so fucking... slow, methodical. But somehow it wasnt bad. It was almost... good.

Something went around his neck and he inhaled reflexively. It tightened. A collar. He went to reach up and feel it with his hands but was immediately reminded of his arms being tied behind him. Something hard and round pressed against his mouth.

"Open." Cutter said softly. Misunderstanding, Voodoo opened his eyes. looking down, he could barely see what it was. Cutters fingers replaced it for a moment and slipped between his lips, forcing his jaw open. A hard, round ball was pushed in, and he growled and gagged a little around it as it was affixed and tightened behind his head. The sensation was foreign. It was like Cutter was replacing his clothing with objects impossibly more obscene. Instead of his scarf and his goggles he wore a ball gag and a collar. His tongue fought for space in his mouth and he sucked his spittle down his throat to avoid drooling around the ball. The soft sucking sound seemed impossibly loud in the small room. He closed his eyes again, cheeks burning, and focused on breathing around the gag and collar.

A foot tapped against his knees and he spread his legs, wondering who this person was that obeyed another mans orders so eagerly. He didnt recognize himself.

Fingers at his ass. Wet with petrol jelly. He shivered, and the anticipation went straight to his cock, which bounced to full mast in an instant. A single finger circled his entrance slowly and he leaned forward, exposing himself more completely. Hating that his arms were trapped behind him, and that he was forced to stay kneeling or end up face first in dirt, which wasnt an option.

Cutters finger moved slowly into him, as long as it could before it bottomed out. He thrust painfully slowly in and out, and the second feeling caused a familiar burning sensation to ripple through his abdomen. At the third he was sweating a bit, breath slurping around the ball clenched between his teeth.

Expecting a cock, he was surprised when the fingers were removed and replaced with nothing at all. Voodoo looked over his shoulder and caught eyes with Cutter, who held up an object he had no words for. It was... a metal hook. Larger than a hand and about as thick as a thumb. At the tip, instead of a point, there was a ball. At the back end, there was a loop. Cutter latched a carabineer with a length of rope affixed to it to the looped end of the hook and measured the rope against Voodoos back, humming happily to himself.

He wanted desperately to ask what it was, but could only vocalize nonsense against the ball gag. The first feeling of the hook pressing into him had him realizing why his arms were tied- the instinct was to get the fuck away. It spread him unevenly, round ball at the end impossibly hard and smooth. Cutter pressed forward at a slow steady pace until he was caught, completely hooked. His cock drooled pre-cum on to the ground and he sucked the ball in his mouth, swallowing compulsively.

Fingers pulled at the collar on his throat, forcing him to lean his head back. A snapping sound, and the other end of the rope was affixed to his neck. Suddenly Cutters hands were gone from him again. Tentatively Voodoo tried to raise his head. The motion caused several things to happen all at once- the rope wasnt long enough. The collar tightened around his neck, limiting his breathing, and the hook dug upwards and inwards, pressing against his prostate and sending waved of sensation through his body. He tried to gasp and choked on his own spit, coughing around the gag and against the collar.

Gentle hands on his face pushed him back so he was leaning again, running smoothly down his throat and his chest, massaging his hips. Voodoo felt his heart slamming against his ribcage but he managed to get his breathing under control. He looked around wildly but couldnt see Cutter- he was out of his range.

A thumping sound beside him. He looked to his left, gasping as the motion tugged the hook against his insides again. His eyes widened at what he saw.

"Took me a while to get my hands on this." Cutter said, hooking a clamp on what appeared to be a modified car battery. Those were rare. Imperator rare. If a lancer was caught hoarding one...

The thought died in his head as Cutter connected another clamp to the top of the hook embedded in his ass, connected to the first by a length of wire. A flip of a crude switch sent the hook vibrating and the world slipped away. He cried out against the gag and jerked forward, vision spotting as he lost the air from his lungs and the vibrating hook assaulted his internal organs relentlessly.

The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt- his body moved, trying to adjust to the hook that vibrated with such an intensity he was certain that without the ball gag in place he would have chipped a tooth. Pleasure ripped through him so roughly it hurt and he was certain his throat and chest were dripping with drool now. Shit. He'd forgotten to swallow.

His hips thrust forward against his will, tugging on the hook and meeting empty air. Something sharp and painful chomped down on his right nipple. Was Cutter biting him? V8, no, another clamp. And again, on his left. He shuddered and moaned around the gag. Dont, dont, please dont... another switch flicked and the clamps were vibrating as well.

If he could scream, he would have.

Wildly Voodoo looked around and finally, finally he saw Cutter, kneeling beside him now and staring at him with an analytical gaze. He tried to breathe, but everything was starting to cut out. The room buzzed with the sound of the car battery and cutter was... Cutter was... watching Voodoo fuck himself on his toys. Watching as he took a breather with his head back and then strained forward against the painful cramping sensation being bent like that caused, forcing the hook deeper into him and assaulting his body with unknowable sensation.

He wouldn't last. He couldn't last. But the pain. The clamps, the bend. His fingers dug into his elbows and he knew he'd cut himself. Panic and sheer overwhelming /sensation/ filled his chest and he stared at Cutter desperately. Asking. Begging. On the verge of Cumming but completely unable to. It was too much. It wasn't enough. He coughed against the gag and felt his eyes grow wet.

No

Cutter seemed to perk up in that moment. Soothing hands, in such contrast to the machines attacking his every nerve ending, rubbed at his shoulders and hips, massaged his thighs, took the edge off. Voodoo moaned and shuddered, clenching hard against the hook inside of him.

Hands back on his hips, but hard this time. Voodoo flinched but the sensation went straight to his cock. There would be finger print bruises there, above his pant-line. The thought fluttered through his wrecked mind and right out again. Fuck it. Whatever. Fuck everything.

His cock was suddenly engulfed in hot, wet heat. Cutters mouth. He'd been blown what felt like a million times before but this was Valhalla itself, the gate to ending this torture. He thrust forward and cried out against the gag, panting and moaning in time to each twitch of his hips. Cutter road him out like his mouth was a fucking cunt- taking in everything that was forced down his throat like he didn't need to breathe.

Teeth dug in, nipping just enough, and Voodoo was Cumming, tears leaking down his face as he twitched his head up involuntarily, shoving the hook impossibly deep and burying himself to the hilt in the mouth of his torturer. The waves of orgasm rocked through him like a car crashing into the rocks, flipping through his belly and sending him spinning. Even as it trailed off Cutters mouth kept sucking and Voodoo couldn't escape. He cried against his bonds and strained, pleasure turning against him as the vibrating in his ass and on his chest kept up, and Cutters mouth nipped and sucked at his dwindling erection.

A hand reached up and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it desperately and sobbed. As the fingers felt his tears, Cutter pulled away from his cock and switched off the battery.

The room went silent.

The moment Cutter unhooked the carabineer from the collar Voodoo collapsed forward against his chest and stayed there, sobbing gently with his face pressed into the tall man. He felt hands, those evil hands, unhook and gently remove the gag from his mouth and an ache spread through his jaw. Voodoo let it hang open, tasting war clay and hearing Cutters slow, steady heartbeat.

He stayed like that as his arms were neatly untied, flinching at the pain that lanced through his shoulders and the muscles that screeched in protest. The clamps came off his nipples and he rubbed at the sore spots before wrapping his arms loosely around Cutters waist, fingers in his belt loops like he was holding on for dear life. The hook felt... ugh.

Still, Cutter pulled slowly and it didn't hurt much to have the cruel device pulled from him. Playful fingers gently rimmed him afterwards, and he twitched, whole body shuddering. Naked and free from all the trappings of the other man, Voodoo let Cutter pull him into his lap. They sat there on the floor for a few moments, and Voodoo couldn't remember ever letting anyone hold him like this. It wasn't particularly intimate, but it... it was more than... well, more than anything he'd felt in a long time. A hand made nonsense patterns on his back and he blinked slowly, not trusting his ability to speak.

"So, how was that?" Cutter said, triumph in his voice.

"y-" Voodoo coughed and wiped his face on Cutters chest, smudging both their war paint. He cleared his throat and tried again. "You fucker."

"Heh. Yeah."


End file.
